Some Stupid, Noble Reason
by thosedarndursleys
Summary: Ginny Weasley might be in Gryffindor, but sometimes she gets really sick of nobility.


**A/N:** Thank you for taking the time to read my story! This was written for round 10 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, season 5. My task, as keeper of the Caerphilly Catapults, was to write something inspired by Mariah Carey's "We Belong Together." For judging purposes, the final word count for this story is 903, excluding the author's note.

Some Stupid, Noble Reason

The first week was the hardest. Harry had been right when he said their few weeks together was like someone else's life; Ginny had to admit that, but she had gotten used to that life, and right now the last thing that she wanted was to give it up. Nothing made sense, and not in that teenage, angsty sort of way. From the time that Ginny had her first run-in with Tom Riddle, nothing had made sense to her-not Sirius' escape from Azkaban, not the Tournament or the Order meetings, not even the damned Slug Club seemed to have any logic to it. The only part of Ginny's life at school that she understood was Harry, and even that was a stretch. (He wasn't exactly the simplest of blokes, you know.) But her few weeks with Harry had been perfect, even amidst the fear and the tragedy and the confusion. Ginny had realized by now that all of those things were going to happen anyway. When Harry was with her, though, they were easier to handle. He didn't even need to say anything. He just needed to be there. He just needed to be.

And now here she was, writing him another damned letter that she knew she couldn't actually send to him. Owls would draw too much attention, and the mail was being so heavily monitored anyway. Ginny couldn't help it, though. She spent all day with her mum and dad, taking on whatever she could in order to make it easier on them. She took on chores and errands and reassuring hugs when she thought her parents could use them, and at the end of the day, all Ginny really wanted was to curl up next to Harry and let herself be scared. But she couldn't because Harry wasn't there for some stupid, noble reason.

He'd been gone for a week and a half now, and Ginny visibly cringed when she looked at each new letter that she wrote. She was becoming a lovesick teenager, one of those trashy Muggle romance novels that her dad brought home three summers back.

Harry, I lost a part of myself when you left. Some days I wake up, and for a moment, I've forgotten that you left. Then I wake up fully, though, and I realize you're gone. It's awful, Harry, and I know that what you're doing is important, but I miss you. Please, for once just leave the saving to someone else. Please, for once just come home.

Ginny chucked that particular letter in the fire shortly after she penned it. Yes, it felt good to let the feelings out, but she would rather die than let anyone read something like that, especially Harry-or worse: her mother.

"What have you got there, love?" Ginny jerked back from the flame and caught her dad's eyes fixating on the charred parchment. His face looked tired, more so than usual, and his hair was becoming more gray by the week.

"Just an old note, dad." She offered him a small smile and prayed it was as confident as she meant for it to be. "How are you feeling? Why don't you sit down-I'll make some tea."

Ginny had already pulled herself to her feet and was rushing off to the kitchen when her father's voice called her back.

"Leave the tea for now, will you? I'd just like to sit with my little girl for a bit, if that's alright."

Ginny's smile was genuine this time as she curled up next to her dad on the sofa. She rested her head on his shoulder, not caring that she was probably far too old to do so. He felt warm, safe, and when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in closer, Ginny had to will her breath not to hitch.

"You miss him, don't you?" Arthur mused. He felt his daughter shift and continued before she could comment. "We all do, but not quite in the same way." He pressed a kiss to her temple and let the room lapse into silence. As he had come to expect, Ginny opted to snuggle in rather than respond. She knew that her dad didn't mean Ron, despite the fact that he'd been gone for the same amount of time, gone to the same place as Harry. She almost felt bad, really. Ginny loved her brother; she really did, and she was worried about him, but she didn't feel his absence in the same way that she felt Harry's. Ron's felt like a nagging worry at the back of her throat; Harry's felt like a rotating blade in her abdomen.

The clock had finished chiming the ninth hour before Arthur spoke again. "You two have something special, you know. You've been a part of each other's lives for so long, it's like you practically helped raise each other. You've grown together, grieved together. You've been through a lot, Gin." Ginny gave a small nod, and Arthur continued. "You two belong together, love, and this War won't get in the way of that. He's going to come back from this, and so will you."

Silence stretched on as Ginny searched for a response. Finally, when she was too tired to push her luck (or her tear ducts), she just nodded. "Thank you, dad."

And Arthur just gave a small smile in return. "Don't mention it, kiddo."


End file.
